


we'd become the flowers

by weightlessbutyoumakemestrong



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Everything, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Hannibal Holiday Exchange, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weightlessbutyoumakemestrong/pseuds/weightlessbutyoumakemestrong
Summary: after the fall, will has a choice to make.





	we'd become the flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sugarmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarmouse/gifts).



> This is my gift for @sugarmouse for the #HannibalHoliday Exchange. I'm sorry this is so late, and I hope you love it, Sarah. Merry Christmas, and have a happy, healthy New Year. :)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr: @abigailhobbies :)
> 
> Title from "In a Week" by Hozier.

**before // hannibal**

 

I touch you as a hummingbird would.

it is light, fleeting, sensual whispers of something

yet to exist. never to exist again. adam and eve. I crafted you from

my ribcage, from the womb of suffering. you watched

as I killed abel with my own hand. cain was the righteous scapegoat.

 

now you hold my life in your hands. my bloody, raw heart

devoured. your skin on my skin, electric.

my hummingbird heartbeat comes back and flies away.

it is too hot to breathe, so I expel more damp air.

"this is all I ever wanted for you, will. for both of us."

 

and you exhale, your head lolled against my shoulder.

I don't know where your blood becomes my blood.

where our DNA chases an intermingled pheromone of  _need._

but when you gather your strength to say "it's beautiful," I am sated.

it is beautiful, mutual freedom from the cages we built around ourselves.

 

my strength is fading, and I know we don't have a choice.

this has only just begun, alpha, and now it needs to end, omega.

we hold each other, anchors ascending. the bliss has turned to madness.

there's iron and petrichor in the air, the scent heady and breathless and alive.

as you begin to sway, I realize this is how we end. this is how we begin.

 

when you pull us over the edge, I hook my ankles around yours and  _surrender._

 

**after // will**

 

when I wake, there is wind, salt, fire, and you.

wind: I feel the frigid air seep into my bones, passing through my soul like

salt: brushed by the aroma of the sea, it makes my wounds ache. which brings the

fire: the futile reminder that existence is painful, the burning salve to an empty man is

you: are barely breathing. I have never breathed your air until this moment.

 

with a sputter and a cough, you are awake. for the first time since I woke up

moments ago and lifetimes ago. I realize you must have pulled us from the surf.

we're on a small stretch of land, so small that I can feel every pulse of your heart.

it's connected to mine. we're connected (our souls cannot survive separation.)

by flesh and lip and teeth and tongue. just not our own, not each other's.

 

isn't it ironic that the moment I realize everything I've ever wanted

has been hiding in your flesh and lips and teeth and tongue is the

same moment I realize we both can't make it on our own. emotionally or...

physically, you are physically weak. the last of your strength, gone in an effort

to save us both. I never expected god to be selfish, yet here we are.

 

to live or to die, to suffer or to forgive, to say goodbye or never know?

you might have to, but I don't want to live without you again. I have never put much faith

in faith, my mind too much its own religion to flirt with an existential prison. but now I grab

your hand and I lift my prayers up to you. I say something I should have said three years ago:

"I'm not going to leave you here to die alone." if god is watching, may he have mercy on our souls.

 

you ask me if you can kiss me, as if we're teenagers, as if you ever cared about consent

as more than a façade of chivalry, a game of chess where the knight always wins.

if I told you that you had permission to kill the king, would you understand?

instead, I say yes, that the answer always would have been yes. and then I'm devoured.

we kiss until you cannot breathe, and it's checkmate, checkmate, checkmate.

 

I always thought our climax would be in the heat of the moment.

a double-entendre gone too far, a battle for dominance.

hands and lips and teeth and tongue. dirty. raw. glorious.

a moment of euphoria before tumbling into the abyss of permanent slumber.

still we float on: from ocean to ocean, from sand to sand.

 

" _we're conjoined... I'm curious whether either of us can survive separation."_

eleven words whispered ten eons ago, nine lifetimes separating our former

lives from our next ones. I count eight breaths in a single second. we must pay for our

seven deadly sins. I count six different times our lips meet as I splay five fingers on your

chest, four eyes connect, you whisper three words, two heartbeats in tandem, down to our one choice.

 

as we're pulled under the atlantic, I know mary need not weep by our tomb.

 

**"w** **e'll** **lay here for years or for hours**

**thrown here or found, to freeze or to thaw  
**

**so long, we'd become the flowers** **  
**

**two corpses we were, two corpses I saw."**

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired very heavily by religious musings and Hozier. And the two intertwined. Merry Christmas & Happy HannibalHolidays!


End file.
